


Leaf Season

by lfvoy



Series: Tales from Winter Camp [3]
Category: Earth 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-30
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lfvoy/pseuds/lfvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eben keeps a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaf Season

Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to bask in the warm sunlight. “Leaf Season,” her mother might have said on days like this. It’d be cold again after nightfall, but right now she gave in to the impulse to open her jacket and feel the air against her skin. Seasons were one of the few things she’d missed, once she’d gotten up to the Stations, and autumn had been her favorite.

A rustling sound came from her right, followed by a childish sound of dismay. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean to do that!” True was frantically gathering up the dead, dry leaves and examining the tree branch. She met her gaze, frantic. “I promise all I did was brush up against it. I didn’t mean to kill it!”

“It’s okay, True,” she answered. “There’s nothing wrong with the tree. It’s just fall.”

True stopped mid-gather. “There’s nothing wrong?”

“Nope,” she answered. “The trees are getting ready for winter, which means the leaves change colors and start falling off. If you hadn’t brushed against the branch, the wind probably would have knocked them off.”

“Oh.” She dropped all but one of the leaves in her hands and turned that one over, examining it. “Why’s it all yellow?”

“It’s dried up. I’m don’t know exactly why, but I bet Yale would. You can ask him next time you have class.”

True made a face at the idea of that and dropped the leaf. “You sure know a lot about this. How did you learn? I thought you lived in the Quads like the rest of us.”

Caught, Eben couldn’t think of an answer that wouldn’t give her away. Chastising herself for being careless, she tried a diversion. “Have you found any more of those berries? Devon and your dad wanted us back before dark, and if we catch Cameron in time we can use them for dinner tonight.”

By way of response, True picked up her basket and showed it to her. It was mostly full. “I knocked the leaves off ’cause I was getting a few more off the tree.”

“All right. Let’s go ahead and start back.”

“Really, Eben, how’d you know that about the trees? Are you an Earth-res or something?”

She decided the girl was entirely too sharp for her own good. “I just heard it around. Come on, let’s go.”

True stayed where she was, looking closely at her. “You _are_ an Earth-res, aren’t you? Why haven’t you said anything?”

The child was entirely too stubborn, as well.

Sighing, Eben bent down so that she and True were mostly eye-level. “You know how people talk about Earth-residents on the Stations.”

“But things are different here. It’s really helpful to have Bess around because she’s an Earth-res. You must know an awful lot of stuff about living on a planet too.”

“It’s just…complicated, True. Nobody knows because nobody ever asked, and I’d rather keep it that way. Okay?”

“Oh,” answered True. “I get it. Mazatl doesn’t know.”

She should have known better than to think nobody would notice the two of them. “You’re right. He doesn’t.”

“Well, I won’t tell him.” She picked up the basket and started walking. “I don’t think anyone would talk about you here. Nobody talks about Bess, and Morgan doesn’t seem to mind.”

She looked after the child’s departing form, wondering whether she should explain that it wasn’t the same situation. Bess wasn’t going back to the Stations, like she was; and Morgan’s influence buffered her from the worst of the treatment.

A gust of cold air blew up, making her shiver under her jacket. Zipping it up, Eben suddenly wished things really were as simple as True seemed to believe.

* * *

Flustered, Walman paused just inside the tent flap. His entrance hadn’t been quiet, and an exit wouldn’t be either, so he decided leaving wasn’t the best idea. He settled for starting an intense study of the tent poles.

“It’s all right, Walman.”

He blew out his breath and looked toward the med-tent’s cot. Eben was still lying in it, eyes closed, body utterly still. A blanket and some extra tenting material lay on the ground at the foot of the cot, but Mazatl was kneeling next to it. He wiped the last of the dirt and sweat from her face, dropped the cloth into a bowl, and sat back on his heels before looking up.

“I, ah, I came to tell you that Zero’s finished digging.”

“Yes. We need to wrap her up. I know.”

“Julia said she’s still willing to help —”

“No. That’s fine.”

“Maz, it’s not like you have any obligation to her. You broke up, what, a month or two ago?”

“A little longer.” He stroked the side of her face. “But it wasn’t bitter.” Her skittish nature and his taciturn one simply hadn’t been compatible. “She was a good woman, a fine person.”

Fumbling at nothing with his hands, Walman moved to the foot of the cot. “Yeah, she was. She didn’t deserve to die like that.”

“She didn’t deserve to die at all, especially not on a planet. That’s not what she wanted.”

“Especially not on a planet?”

Mazatl pulled at Eben’s shirt, straightening it and folding her arms across her chest. “She hated the idea of being buried in the dirt.” Which was, of course, exactly what was about to happen. “I never understood why until a couple of weeks ago. True asked me if we ended it because she was an Earth-res.”

“An Earth-res?” asked Walman. “I didn’t know Eben was an Earth-res.”

“Neither did I.” When he’d said that to True, she’d suddenly looked guilty and stammered that she’d thought Eben had told him. She’d asked him not to give away that she’d accidentally broken a promise. He hadn’t.

“That explains a lot,” commented Walman. She’d sometimes known unusual things, things that often didn’t make sense right away for anyone except Bess. During winter camp the two of them had formed a friendship based on that odd commonality of knowledge, that way they sometimes understood each other without discussion. Neither woman had been inclined to explain it.

Bess had also tried to be here, but she was so sick she could barely stand. Now that Eben was gone, she was the worst off, which, Walman realized, made sense. They both likely had some weaknesses in their immune system, caused by childhood exposure to toxins and economic hardship.

Mazatl had picked up the blanket and started wrapping her up. Blinking, Walman moved to help him, supporting and turning the body as gently as possible. She couldn’t feel it, of course, but she still deserved gentle and respectful handling.

“I’m surprised she kept it a secret,” he said as they finished with the blanket

“I’m not,” answered Mazatl. “She was adamant about going back to the Stations.”

“Even though she seemed to like it here sometimes?”

“Everyone likes it here sometimes. Not everyone likes it enough to think about staying.”

“That’s true.” Walman picked up the nylon material and they finished wrapping her, securing the cloth with straps from the Trans Rover.

“I just wish,” said Mazatl softly, “that keeping the secret had turned out to be worth it.”

Outside, they could hear the others in the camp moving toward the headland, voices subdued, gathering for the funeral. Walman opened the tent flap, secured it back, and they bent to pick up Eben’s body. In the warm sunlight, the yellow outer wrapping rustled and crackled, sounding just like autumn leaves.


End file.
